Sunday, October 15, 2017

a work in progress

post #357
     I am still feeling contemplative these days and truth seeking. I am not able to understand how it's all right to fan the flames of differences between people. Or how we can possibly imagine that more guns will bring anything except tragedies. The framers of our constitution certainly never envisioned AK47s. I am grateful as always for conversations with friends, an opportunity to speak our ideas out loud and be listened to.  Every year of my life there is so much more to figure out. No sense in getting stuck on some unexamined point of view!
      I always love to look around me, to discover what there is, and literally see other points of view. I want to post some photos this week that might show the way I work. Sometimes a certain photo might not be particularly striking, but it is on the way to seeing whatever is there more clearly. I hope to make more sense eventually from what I am saying now.

across that same road, from Margie and George's porch

a detail from the photo above

another detail nearby
Three more photos, somewhat connected by subject matter or texture or design:
a nearby field

another morning fog in the same field

a morning web

the harpist after the recent Cave Run Symphony orchestra concert, and her magnificant harp
                                             Thank you, Elaine Humphreys Cook

     There's nothing like the creative mind of a child to see things in new ways: thank you, Thea!  The world needs all of us to keep using our creative minds to go beyond our perceived limits of imagining what our inner worlds could encompass.

        I do feel I will have more to say and see on what I am mulling over in this post so inadequately. Thank you, dear readers, for your patience.

Sunday, October 8, 2017

beauty in our lives

post #356
       It has been raining here all day long -- after at least a month of steady warm and sunny days. It's wonderful the woods are getting a soaking as we head into fall where fire is a bigger problem if fallen leaves are dry. As I write this, Tropical Storm Nate is getting pretty close to eastern Kentucky. 
       I made the four following photos several hours ago as I left where I used to live. The only way out is by this beautiful driveway -- made even more beautiful now that I'm no longer responsible for getting leaves out of the ditch along the side of it....

headed out

looking back toward where I had just been

another view forward -- this time through the windshield!

around the curve, looking back

What I left behind -- after a birthday party for my daughter. These lovelies and tasties were brought by friends who have Forgotten Foods Farm, LLC.

the morning after -- my daughter, her daughter, and her brother -- sweet!!

     This last photo for today was made recently, while I checked the milkweed plants. There's something about the moon that brings out whatever love I have for mystery.  Also, I must confess, with the distressing travesties being carried out in D.C. that expose the weak links in our democracy, it never hurts to be in the presence of a beauty that is reliable and true to itself.

Sunday, October 1, 2017

scenes from my neck of the woods

post #355
     We're all starting a new month, and, here in northeastern Kentucky, in the Appalachian foothills, we're closer to fall. I continue to share these photos as a way of giving a different perspective on this lovely place than the ones sometimes held up to define us.
      Last week David came with his tractor and fold-down bushhog to do my small field. I'll now feel less hemmed in by broom grass all winter! Thank goodness! I loved it that three days after he worked here, I ran into him in tiny Elliottville, nearby, in his sports car. Even though his car looked so different than his tractor, I loved his versatility. He's kind enough as well to have some patience for my photomaking.

good by sweet grasses and flowers - though I asked that one very small section not be mowed, for the sake of butterflies and seeds for the birds

He even does the steep hillside by the pond. I can never believe it can be done, but to him it's no big deal.

      Before he had arrived, I heard David coming over from the neighbor's fields. I quickly took these two field photos before the iron weed would be gone:

Leaving my side road, I spotted this deer silhouette on the "main road".  Took this through the windshield with a quick grab of the camera since there was no one behind me.  The first deer had already passed by.


        The mystery flowers have now been identified -- thank you, Sue Ella. They are sedum, of which there are many varieties. And they are also called "HOUSE LEAKS", since they need the water provided by dripping gutters in addition to regular rain.  Sure enough, Margie's are located under a gutter.

      This last photo is not taken by me, but it is a wonderful tribute to the annual STORY TELLING FESITVAL that is held every end of September.  The location: Cave Run Lake, near Morehead, KY, under a huge tent.  The weather: absolutely perfect both days. These friends: loyal and longtime. Stories: essential for our lives ongoing.

Sunday, September 24, 2017

responses to last week's threats about war

post #354
       This week I want to speak up from within poetry and photography. I want to lament some of the current fashion for bully tactics, name calling and contemplation of bombs and annililation. Many of us are not in the least amused by fruitless threats of warfare. There are always other options, some requiring knowledege and thought-through plans, ones that may not show instant results but which have more of a chance for staying power. Other writers can lay out these options with more coherence than I possess, but, at this point in time, as a citizen of this nation, I am feeling compelled to draw on my art, so to speak, to try to make  some sense and to support compassion in the face of greed.
           Last week my monthly writers group met, in Lexington, and I was very moved by this poem that Martha Gehringer had written. So I asked her if I could share it, with a few photos of mine. Thank you, Martha, for your poetry.          Poetry and imaging help me to see things in new ways, to find the hope that is always somewhere there, and to reach across the stuck parts of our lives. Thank you, artists all.


“South Korea is finding, as I have told them,
that their talk of appeasement with North Korea
will not work, they only understand one thing.”
 Trump Tweet, 2 hrs ago

The morning before something big—
some big thing like this that looms,
we take in the view from where we sit—

the late summer garden, green still,
though bedraggled.  Our limelight
hydrangeas blooming soft against the sky—
against a looming sky.  See how they have
gone from chartreuse to white to pinkish now—
How they hang—heavy—wet mop heads—

mop heads they are called.  And the arc
of them on their weakish stems such a lovely,
lovely, lovely lank.  Beyond them, all still

green, the ivy leaves, the clover leaves,
the broad and promising leaves of violets.
Come Spring, they will (at least for now

we still believe they will) make purple flower.
The tall grasses in the neighbor’s field
are full of what cannot be seen but surely

surely is there.  Yes. 

Sunday, September 17, 2017

summer summary

post #353
     Is summary another way to say "this or that?"  Well, in case it is, I've made an effort to give this post some shape and form.... Thus I begin with GARDENS. The first photo is a reminder of what a vegetable looks like in early summer:

And then what a vibrant "End of Summer" plant looks like in someone else's garden than mine. Thank you, Margie and George. A neighbor told me that name many years ago, and it has stayed with me:

As for wild flowers, here are three fairly showy ones at this time. First to come and mostly go is the JOE-PYE WEED, which butterflies love as do I:

By now we are having what I'd call brassy IRON WEED everywhere, including in the meadow near my house.  This plant can be a favorite in real gardens as well -- stalky but intense:

The third plant today is a favorite of mine, since I followed several of them for an entire twelve months a few years ago. Of course they are also well known for being essential to the monarch butterflies:  MILKWEED

I was so excited when I came across this patch of milkweed, with pods, two weeks ago, including an early pod sending out its seeds to float to who knows where. 

I took my granddaughter by to visit them. She already knew all about their butterfly connection. I love her plant matching glasses with which she often adorns herself these days:

For the devoted among you, here are two more photos of her, the first one during Cousin Camp, out by the pond:

The second one is of her first time soccer team, which is a very end of summer happening. Go team!! Clever eyes might be able to figure out which person is her dad and a coach:

  Well, truth be told, another late summer activity around here is helicopters out and about, looking for a forbidden crop. I wasn't using my 300 mm lens for that photo. The thing was just close, and loud. I don't know what they found, if anything. I haven't had time yet to ask my neighbors what the real scoop is.

Last but not least, another photo of my gallery, since three weeks ago I forgot to include the phone number to call to make an appointment to come out.  606 738 6119   I'm not that close to anything else, so I'd hate for someone to drive all the way out here only to find that I'm not there. Thanks.

If you are very lucky when you come, the pond here might have mist and birds and maybe even deer.  In case it doesn't, here is a recent photo from my house to your house to feed the imagination:
Next week: a friend's poem, with a couple of my photos....

Sunday, September 10, 2017

walking where a poet works

post #352
       Recently I had lunch and a walk with friends W. and T. who live on the Kentucky River. Their part of Kentucky is not in Appalachia, but, in our state, artists, writers and social action people are very connected and supportive of one another. It's one of the amazing riches that our state seems to create. I met W. with other writers and photographers he had gathered up to begin some awareness of the terrible harm done by mountaintop removal mining. Articles, poems, books, and artworks grew out of this shared effort over a long period of time. Yes, MTR mining is better known and understood by now, but the clean water and community health issues continue to be as urgent as ever. Many of us continue with this work and more.
      After our lunch and the visit part, W. went back to work, and I took a walk. It's wonderfully flat there along the river. Here are a few photos that I made just because I was happy, grateful and energized to be there on such a beautiful afternoon. Thank you, friends, as always, for your kindness and generosity and caring about so many things.

what's hot on a winter stove in August....

This looked like a grand palace entrance to me....


I love a gate and always have.

       On the way back to my car, I suddenly felt I wanted to try to capture where I was as if in a dream to take with me to revisit. So, first, here's what my eyes saw, there on the poet's path, and then I made a photo how it "really" looked as I got ready to return to a more public place. I have no idea if it works for anyone else. But, believe me, I loved giving it a try.

        There is so much to say. I hope my photos speak as well as my words might. 
        I'll save my thoughts about what goes on in the world until next week. Thank you for visiting my post this week.